by Elias Taylor
It was just an intro ballet class, but Heather was already so excited for the next lesson. She already had a bunch of ideas for videos to show and choreography to draft.
She would have to think about other classes too. Ballet was her first love, but a lot of the kids in the class had expressed interest in lyrical and contemporary dance. Heather had plenty of experience in those genres too.
As the last girl filed out the door, Lenora Newsome walked across the hardwood floor.
“You’re good at this,” Lenora Newsome said. “A natural.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Newsome.”
“Heather, I told you, it’s Lenora now,” her old teacher said.
“Right. It’s still so strange being back to teach.”
“I understand. When I left dance in the seventies, it felt like my life was falling apart.”
“How did you cope?” Heather asked.
As a kid, Heather had idolized Lenora Newsome. She had been a big name in ballet back in the day and she had an encyclopedic knowledge of dancing. Mrs. Newsome had been an amazing teacher. She had been tough on Heather, but her strict manner had only made Heather better. And no one had cheered louder at Heather’s successes.
“Well,” Lenora said. “I eventually realized my life wasn’t falling apart, things were just moving around, and when the dust settled, it was all for the better.”
Heather leaned against the wall and crossed her arms.
“I’m not sure that’s the case with me,” Heather said.
Lenora gave Heather a kind smile.
“You can’t see the forest through the trees,” Lenora said. “But you have to keep taking it one day at a time and embrace the changes.”
Heather looked down. She couldn’t embrace her injury. She could barely think about it without crying.
“I know you think performing is all there is,” Lenora said. “But I have found tremendous joy in teaching and running a business. I’ve developed skills I never thought I would.”
Heather had to admit, it was impressive how Lenora had built up an amazing reputation for her studio.
“There’s something wonderful about knowing I built all this from scratch,” Lenora said as she gestured to the studio. “And knowing that I’m leaving a legacy of sorts in every dancer I teach.”
“You are an extraordinary teacher,” Heather said.
“You will be too. I can see it.”
Heather shrugged and blushed. Even after all this time, praise from Lenora Newsome meant so much.
“I don’t know,” Heather said. “It’s tough being responsible for a whole group of dancers instead of just myself.”
“Of course,” Lenora siad. “But you didn’t dumb down the choreography for those students and you held them to higher standards. Plus, they clearly were awestruck by you.”
“Really?”
“Darling, injured leg or no, you are still a phenomenal dancer. Those kids are going to be your devotees.”
“I just hope I live up to it.”
“I have a feeling you will,” Lenora said.
From the window, Heather saw Melinda’s car pull up.
“Ah, looks like Melinda is swinging by,” Heather said.
Her friend knew it was Heather’s first lesson. Heather had also texted Melinda about running into Hayden. Heather was pretty sure Melinda was more curious about the latter.
“Go, enjoy your time with friends,” Lenora said. “And remember, while you figure things out, you will always have a place here.”
“Thank you.”
Spurned by sudden affection, she walked over and gave her old instructor a quick hug before heading out to meet Melinda.
As soon as the two friends were upstairs in Heather’s apartment, Melinda demanded the full story.
“What happened?” Melinda asked. “Oh my god, isn’t he just as hot as he used to be?”
“First of all, nothing happened. My car broke down, so he showed up in the tow and it was weird.”
Melinda squealed.
“Second of all,” Heather said. “He is even hotter than he used to be, but that is completely irrelevant.”
“It’s only irrelevant if you want it to be. Girl, you could make him so relevant, all you have to do is ask.”
“No way,” Heather said. “You’re acting like he’s been pining for me all this time, but trust me, he has no feelings left. In fact, he probably hates me.”
Heather headed towards her kitchen and unwrapped a granola bar.
Melinda looked like she wanted to say more but instead clamped her lips together.
“So how was your first class?” Melinda asked at last.
“It was good,” Heather said. She chewed her granola bar and considered. “Actually, it was really great. I have a lot of ideas.”
“Awesome!”
“Plus Lenora told me there has been an uptick in girls signing up since they heard I was coming. Which is totally flattering.”
“Of course,” Melinda said. “Everyone wants to meet a real-life Prima Ballerina.”
Heather grinned and collapsed onto her couch. She massaged her knee.
“Nope, don’t sit down,” Melinda said. “I’m taking you out.”
“I don’t know, I’m tired,” Heather said. “And super sweaty.”
“Psh, you look gorgeous. No excuses. The fair is tonight, and we’re going.”
“Ugh, it’ll be crowded.”
“So what?” Melinda said. “You need a crowd, you haven’t let loose since you were sixteen.”
Heather frowned. Melinda had a point. While Heather spent hours in dance classes and preparing for performances, Melinda had lived every weekend like it was the last. Heather had, on occasions, even envied Melinda when her friend had told stories about particularly epic nights out.
“That’s not true, I have let loose once or twice,” Heather said.
“When was the last time you went out?” Melinda asked.
Heather opened her mouth, but Melinda interrupted her.
“To a non-dancing event?”
Heather snapped her mouth shut.
“Yeah, thought so,” Melinda said. “Now go take a super quick shower.”
Heather sighed, but she stood up and headed towards the bathroom. Melinda was right. A fun night filled with non-dance activities might be good for her. It would at least take Heather’s mind off her injury and tenuous career path.
After her shower, Heather threw on a grey high-waisted skirt that had buttons down the front and a black crop-top that showed off just a sliver of her flat stomach. She left her hair down. It felt strange for it to be flowing free instead of tightly tied back for dancing, but Heather decided it looked good.
In the mirror, she regarded her left knee. From the outside, it looked fine. She didn’t even need to wear a brace when she wasn’t dancing. Heather sighed. She couldn’t live like this, obsessing over what she couldn’t change. She grabbed her purse and joined Melinda in the living room.
“Ok, let’s go,” Heather said.
“Yes!” Melinda said. “In that skirt, you’re totally getting free drinks tonight.”
Heather rolled her eyes. She was pretty sure the only drinks at the fair were $4 Budweisers.
Her sister and her parents had gone to the fair every year, but Heather had often skipped for dance class. She had missed a lot of things for dance. As Melinda led the way through the bustling fairgrounds with all the colored lights, Heather got a little sad for the child she had been. She had always been grinding at the studio. What good times did she miss out on because she always chose dance?
Melinda seemed to know everyone at the fair. She waved and greeted people, but she never left Heather’s side. Heather appreciated Melinda’s loyalty. Heather hadn’t really kept in touch with anyone in Lyndon besides her family and Melinda. She would have felt overwhelmed and shy if Melinda had abandoned her to socialize.
“Ok, we definitely need a cotton candy,” Melinda said.
&nbs
p; Heather almost said she couldn’t because of her dance diet. Then she realized that there was no more diet. Heather could eat what she wanted. The thought was exhilarating.
“I’ll buy!” Heather said.
She ordered two big pink sticks, then she and Melinda kept walking.
“God, this is good,” Heather said. “I was a kid the last time I had cotton candy.”
“I remember your crazy dance diet,” Melinda said. “I used to convince you to sneak bites of cookie dough at my house.”
“And I would always feel guilty and confess to Mrs. Newsome,” Heather said. “Then she would make me ‘do penance.’”
“You were such a goody two-shoes,” Melinda said with a smile.
“I know,” Heather said. “I had to do so many push-ups for that cookie dough.”
“Next weekend, you’re coming to my place and we’re gonna eat a whole bowl of cookie dough,” Melinda announced.
“Deal,” Heather said.
As she finished her cotton candy, she was hit by another memory. She was at the local diner with Hayden and he was buying her a milkshake. Every Friday, he would tell her she deserved a treat, so he would order her a big chocolate shake.
Heather always drank every last drop and nothing ever tasted as good.
She sighed. No matter what, all roads in Lyndon led back to Hayden. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be connected to everything?
“Hey, you’re zoning out,” Melinda said.
“Sorry,” Heather said. “It’s been a long day.”
“I know,” Melinda said. “Ferris wheel. We’ll get a view of half of Lyndon from up there.”
“Ok,” Heather said.
The two friends set off towards the massive wheel. Melinda gabbed about all the people she had seen and how Melinda was going to take Heather to all the best social events in Lyndon.
Heather nodded along, but she was suddenly overwhelmed by the crowd. She kept thinking that she shouldn’t be out this late. She had early dance practice. Then she would remember that she didn’t have dance practice anymore. There was no show or performance to work towards. Her days seemed to stretch in a line of monotony in front of her.
She chastised herself for being so melodramatic. Lenora Newsome and her father were right: she was more than just a dancer. She had to have more faith in her ability to find another path.
And for now, she just had to relax and enjoy the fair.
“Hey, Mel,” Heather said. “I think we need to turn this way.”
Heather pointed down a row of booths.
“Are you sure?” Melinda asked. “That might take us to the wrong side. I thought I saw the line over there.”
The two girls stood still and tried to get their bearings.
As Heather turned, she felt a strange prickling on the nape of her neck. She sucked in her breath as she saw a shape in the corner of her eye. It was familiar. More familiar than it should have been.
Hayden.
Heather kept her head turned away. Maybe he wouldn’t see her. It was crowded, there were tons of people. Maybe she and Melinda would blend into the hordes.
Melinda was oblivious and continued to chatter.
“I think we should have turned back there actually,” Melinda said.
Heather nodded. She was about to say great and they should get a move on when a voice caught her friend’s attention.
“Yo Melinda! And Heather Carlson...what a surprise.”
Melinda looked up and waved. Heather turned. George Smith totally did not look surprised.
Heather considered faking illness or straight-up running away. One awkward interaction with Hayden Russel was enough for the day.
But it was too late. Melinda was already walking towards the guys.
Heather plastered a fake smile on her face and followed her friend.
One thing was for certain. This fair was not going to allow her to let loose.
Chapter Eight: Infinity
It was no use protesting. George made a beeline for Melinda and Heather, so Hayden had no choice but to follow.
Was it possible that Heather had somehow gotten even more gorgeous than she had been that morning? Hayden had to make a concerted effort to not ogle her legs. Heather, meanwhile, was looking anywhere but at him.
“Hey, Mel, I haven’t seen you in ages,” George said.
“I’ve been busy,” Melinda said. “Did you hear about what happened last weekend at Blake’s?”
The two fell deep into catching up. Hayden glanced at Heather. She wore a polite smile on her face, but he could tell she was tense. Her hands were clasping the strap of her purse so tight that her knuckles were white.
He didn’t want her to feel so uncomfortable. He hated that he was the one causing her discomfort.
“So, is your car running ok?” Hayden asked.
He winced at his lame attempt to make conversation, but anything was better than the awkward silence.
“Yeah!” Heather said. “Totally great!”
Her voice was too loud and her smile too bright, but she was trying.
“Good,” Hayden said.
Heather shifted her weight from one foot to another. Hayden caught himself noticing the way the lights from the fair reflected off her clavicle. It was killing him not to stare.
“So, I forgot to ask earlier, how are the Hogs?” Heather said.
“Good,” Hayden said.
He scrambled for something else to say. Heather was making an effort. He had to meet her halfway.
“Dad’s in charge and Charlie is shaping up to be a good number 2,” Hayden said.
“Fast Charlie,” Heather said with a grin. “I would have thought you would be number 2 by now.”
“Not yet,” Hayden said.
“You got a biker name yet?” Heather asked.
With a jolt, Hayden remembered how much she had loved biker names. She was always trying to guess what Hayden’s nickname would be.
“Yeah,” Hayden said. “Doomsday.”
Heather’s eyes widened.
“That’s a good one,” she said. “Bleak, but good.”
Hayden saw that some of the tension had left her body and she was no longer struggling with eye contact. He breathed a sigh of relief. It made him ridiculously happy to see her relax. She had always been prone to stress. He used to work so hard at finding ways to make her laugh or chill out. How quickly he wanted to fall back into that old role.
“So, we were headed to the Ferris wheel,” Melinda cut in. “You guys should join.”
“Totally,” George said.
Heather started chewing her bottom lip. She didn’t have to worry. Hayden was letting her off the hook as he had no intention of getting on the wheel.
“Nah, you know I don’t do rides,” Hayden said. “I’ll pass.”
“Ah, come on,” Melinda said.
“No way,” Hayden said.
“That’s right,” Heather said. “Hayden is totally scared of heights.”
Heather gave him a teasing smile and Hayden’s stomach flipped.
“Bro, come on, man up just this once,” George said.
“Yeah, don’t be a chicken,” Heather said.
“I don’t know,” Hayden said.
He could feel his resolve crumbling at the sight of Heather’s mischievous eyes.
“Come on, Doomsday,” Heather said. “We’ll be in the seat right below you, we can catch you if you fall.”
The sound of Heather uttering his biker name was way too sexy. As soon as the word fell out of her rosebud lips, Hayden knew it was over.
“Alright, alright,” Hayden said. “Just this once.”
Georgie patted him on the back and they were off, weaving between the groups of people to join the line for the Ferris wheel.
Heather stood by Melinda, but when they got in line, the two girls turned to chat with Hayden and George.
“So what’s your biker name?” Heather asked George.
“Silvertongue,�
� George said.
“Why?” Melinda asked.
“‘Cause I’m so well-spoken and charismatic,” George said.
“Oh, I thought it might be due to something else you can do with your tongue,” Melinda said with a saucy smile.
George burst out laughing. Hayden watched in fascination as a blush spread across Heather’s cheeks.
She had been like that in high school, as well. So shy and innocent. She had been shy with him at first, but she had gotten more comfortable over time.
Heather glanced up at him and Hayden wondered if she was remembering the same thing.
George and Melinda continued to joke with each other. The line shifted. The four of them were next.
“You sure you’ll be ok?” Heather murmured.
“Now that it’s too late, you feel bad?” Hayden asked.
“Well, I don’t want you to throw up or anything.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll do my best to puke on Georgie.”
Heather tipped her head back when she laughed and Hayden’s heart skipped about five beats. Why did she have to be so beautiful? It made the whole “being friends” things so hard.
The Ferris wheel came to a stop and the guy running the ride gestured at them.
“Alright, next,” he said.
In a blink of an eye, George and Melinda had climbed into the two-person seat.
“Oh,” Heather said.
“See you guys on the other side,” Melinda said.
Their two friends lowered the metal bar and the Ferris wheel swung them away. Hayden was going to have to talk to Georgie later about his tendency to scheme.
“I guess it’s us,” Hayden said.
“Oh,” Heather said again.
“You two getting on?” the Ferris wheel guy asked.
An empty seat was waiting.
Heather stepped on and Hayden followed. Out of respect, he tried to sit so there was space between them, but it was tight quarters.
As soon as the ride lurched into motion, Hayden couldn’t worry about how close he was to Heather. He grabbed the metal bar and sucked in his breath as the ride carried them higher.
“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Heather said.
Hayden looked up to see her giggling. She clamped one hand over her mouth.
